“I got started on this stuff when I was about fifteen, and it was because of this other girl, Dorothy. I really blame her. Over in Honolulu, when I was going to school, we used to go exploring in this place behind the jungle gym. First Dorothy and Pd fool around on that, and then we found all these paths and used to follow them to see where they went. Each time we'd take a different one. That part was okay, but then it ended up sort of weird.
“We found a clear place in the bushes back there. Nothing was around but all this thick undergrowth, so that we were pretty safe back there. I'm part Japanese and part haole, which is what they call white people in the islands. Dorothy is all haole. Her father was a captain in the Coast Guard.
“One time we just started fooling around. We were back there in that little safe place during lunch recess. I was lying on my back, all stretched out, watching the clouds float overhead, and Dorothy was sitting next to me.
“Suddenly she asked me if I ever finger-poked. I didn't even know what she was talking about. She laughed and said it was real nice, and if I wanted she'd show me.
“I felt sort of curious, but I also had a feeling that it was something bad.
“'What do I have to do?' I asked suspiciously.
“'Pull up your dress and take your panties down,' she said.
“'Oh no,' I said indignantly. 'That's bad, and I'm not going to do anything bad.'
“'What's bad about it?' she snorted. 'I'm a girl, too.'
“'I don't know… It just is.'
“'Suit yourself,' she said with a shrug.
“I should have let the whole darned thing drop right there, but I was curious, so I said, 'If I undress like you say, what are you going to do?'
“'That's for me to know and you to find out,' she teased.
“I thought about it for a moment, and I kept getting these crazy thoughts. I had no idea what she had in mind, or what this 'finger poke' meant, although I could sort of guess. I thought about it quite a bit, and then I just sort of impulsively decided to go along with it and see what happened.
“'Well, okay,' I said.
“'You have to pull your dress up and take your pants down first,' she said.
“I hesitated a moment, then raised up and slid my skirt up high and then pulled down my panties. The cool grass felt nice on my bare butt and it was exciting just to be undressed and anticipating something.
“'Spread your legs apart,' she ordered.
“A little reluctantly I did. Then I felt her finger on me, right on my clitoris. She started rubbing it real fast. It was terrific. I'd never had anything happen to me like that, and to my enormous surprise it felt good, real good.
“'Hey, what are you doing?' I exclaimed.
“'Relax and take it easy,' she said. 'I'm in charge down here.'
“It felt funny, her finger going up and down, especially when she started pumping. It was terrific.
“'Do you like it?' she asked.
“'Oh, yeah,' I gasped. 'It's nice.' And it was nice. I'd never felt anything like it in my life, and I really enjoyed it. Then it started feeling absolutely marvelous, like nothing I'd ever imagined, really building up, and I started moaning. 'Ooooooh, it feels good!' over and over again. It built up and built up and then I popped. It was the first time I ever came.
“The next day, during lunch recess, I said, 'Let's go exploring again.'
“Dorothy giggled, and said, 'Okay. You really like exploring, don't you?'
“'Yeah!'
“We disappeared into the bushes, went right to our snug little place, and, without waiting for an invitation, I whipped up my skirt and slid down my panties and then laid down on my back with my legs apart.
“'Roll over,' said Dorothy.
“I was puzzled. 'What are you going to do now?'
“'You'll see.'
“I decided to take her word for it and flipped over onto my tummy so that my bare bottom was right under her nose. I should have felt embarrassed about the whole thing, but all I felt was excited.
“'I didn't really finger-poke you the last time.
Now I will.'
“I felt her finger working around my pussy and the tip of it go in. It sent shivers up my spine, delicious shivers. Then she started working it in, right into my vagina.
“'Ohhhhh!' I gasped.
“'Feel good?'
“'It feels funny.'
“She continued to wriggle and push, and her finger went in me deeper and deeper. It was a nice feeling, not really wild like the day before, but nice. I closed my eyes, relaxed, and just let her finger go in. Pretty soon it was in all the way. Then she started pumping, and that's when it started feeling good. The sweet ecstasy of it started building up and I started moaning. Then, as I was about to reach my climax, I had this overpowering wish to have something pushed up my rear. I don't know where that feeling came from, and it really took me by surprise.
“'Oooooh! Oooooh! Stick your finger up my fanny! Please! Ooooh, I want something up my fanny!'
“It took Dorothy by surprise too, but I felt her finger between my cheeks, and then pushing its way up my backside. Having a finger in front and a finger in back was just too much and I had a terrific orgasm.
“'Ooooh, it feels good! Ooooh! Ooooh! Way in! I want it way in!'
“Boy, did I come! It was terrific! Dorothy just stared at me in amazement; she said my bottom was bouncing so much she had a hard time keeping her fingers up me.
“'You are one sexy wahine!' she exclaimed.
“'I guess I am.'
“After that, Dorothy and I used to go to the bushes quite a lot. We didn't dare go all the time, because we were scared to death that somebody'd notice us and follow us, especially boys. I hate boys! Who needs 'em? Dorothy used to finger-poke me, and then I started doing it to her. We kept the fingernails of our forefingers clipped real short so they wouldn't hurt.
“One time when we were in there, I crouched down on all fours, dress up, panties down, and asked Dorothy to stick a ball-point pen up my rear and finger-poke me at the same time. Wow, that was terrific! I found that it was much more exciting to finger-poke and have something go up my behind at the same time than just to finger-poke.
“After she did that to me, I did it to her. She lay on her stomach with her dress up while I finger-poked her. I also worked the pen up her rear. But she didn't like that so much, and couldn't see why I did. I think you either like having something up your rear a lot or not at all.
“Then came disaster. One day, toward the end of the school year, Dorothy and I headed for our favorite place in the bushes, and I was down on my tummy with my dress practically up to my neck, my panties off, and my legs spread wide. Dorothy was finger-poking me and, at the same time, pushing a candle up my bottom. It was terrific, and I was moaning and moaning when Dorothy suddenly stopped and said, 'Oh-oh!'
“I looked up and there was one of the teachers, horror written all over her face.
“'What in the world are you girls doing?' she exclaimed.
“It just had to be this particular bitch, a real straitlaced type. I started scrambling to get my clothes on while Dorothy just sat there, her eyes wide open and mouth drooping.
“The teacher was mean. She yanked us to our feet, called us filthy degenerates, and told us we'd be sorry, that we'd probably get kicked out of school, and that we ought to be locked up over in Kaneohe where the mental hospital is. Dorothy and I were sobbing. We begged her not to tell anybody, least of all our folks, but she said we were going to the principal's office right now and our folks would surely know about it. Then she went on muttering about how we were degenerates and perverts and what a bad influence we were on the rest of the kids.
“The principal was nicer. She was more liberal in the way she looked at things, and we could tell, from the way she talked, that she didn't approve of the teacher's way of handling us. It was awfully shameful, though, anyway you look at it, and we just couldn't stop crying. Of course, we made so much commotion, crying and everything, that the kids in the playground noticed, and that was even more humiliating because it felt like everybody knew what we'd been doing.
“The teacher told the principal that she'd found us in the bushes and that it was so shameful that she couldn't bring herself to describe what we were doing. The principal nodded and said that she would talk with us.
“'I gather you two were up to something,' she said when the teacher was gone. She thought a moment, and then said, 'I think I'll have to have a little talk with your parents and perhaps arrange for you to see a psychiatrist.'
“'Please don't tell our folks,' we both pleaded, bursting into tears again.
“She calmed us down, and told us not to get upset, that lots of people do what we were doing, but that it's kind of like being sick, and the time to treat sickness is at the beginning. She assured us that our folks would understand when it was all explained to them. We said they wouldn't.
“Dorothy and I were right. We knew we would be because we knew our folks and the principal didn't. A couple of days later I saw our car parked in front of the school and I knew Mom was there with the principal and that as soon as I got home I was going to get it. And I was right, too.
“No sooner had I come in the door, all sheepish and scared, than Mom jumped on me.
“'You disgraceful little whore!' she yelled. 'I'll teach you.'
“She called me a pervert, too, and said that no daughter of hers was going to be a queer and that she'd knock that nonsense right out of me here and now. With that she yanked me into the bedroom, grabbed me, pulled me over her knee, rolled up my dress, pulled down my panties and started to spank me hard on the bare bottom. She hadn't done that to me since I was very little.
“I cried and yelped, and it was just awful, but the funny part of it was that I sort of liked it, too. I really didn't mind how much it hurt. In fact, I even liked how the hairbrush stung, and the fact that Mom was so stern and hard-nosed about it.
“'Please don't spank me anymore,' I kept pleading, and she said she'd stop when I promised never never to do anything with Dorothy again. I did, and, after a couple more good swats, she let me go. It was quite a while before I could sit down.
“The next day at school Dorothy told me her mother had gotten all upset, like she knew she would, and that she was going to be taken to a psychiatrist. Dorothy didn't get a licking.
“Dorothy and I didn't see each other much after that, and, by the time school was out, the whole thing seemed to be over and forgotten. Only I didn't forget it, and I kept wishing that it would happen again.
“That summer some friends came to visit us from Maui and brought their son with them. He was my age, sort of a tall gangling guy, kind of a sissy. I didn't much like him at first. My dad was on vacation and we went on picnics a lot and did a lot of swimming, especially over on the other side of the island, over by Lanikai.
“One time this boy, his name was Billy, raced me out to the raft off the beach. I won. Afterwards we stretched out on the raft in the sun, soaking up the heat, and started talking. It was really the first time I'd talked with him because mostly I'd been snubbing him. He had a horse back home on Maui and he talked about that, and about the stuff kids do around there. And then, somehow, I don't know how, we got on to sex.
“'Have you ever been fucked?' he asked me, after we'd been talking about it for a while.
“I shook my head. 'Nope. I guess it's different with girls. I don't think I'll do it until I get married.'
“'I don't agree with that,' he said. 'By the time you're old enough to get married you're already too old for it to be any good. People are always saying you should save it for marriage, but marriage is a real drag. I don't ever want to get married, or at least I don't want to get married until I'm real old and there isn't anything else.'
“I nodded. He was right about that in a way, I thought. I knew I sure didn't want to be anything like Mom and have her kind of life.
“'The trouble with sex is that if you're a girl there's always the chance that you'll have a baby,' I said.
“'I know, but there are other ways to do it,' he whispered softly.
“I grinned. I knew what he was talking about, but I decided to play dumb just for fun. 'What other ways?' I asked.
“'A boy can use his mouth on a girl and a girl can do the same with him. That's one way.'
“'And?'
“"The boy can corncob a girl.'
“'What does “corncob” mean?' I asked in a very innocent voice. Actually, I really didn't know.
“'Oh…' His voice started getting husky.
“That's when a boy does it to a girl from behind.'
“'You mean dog fashion?' I asked, mostly to tease him. I could see through his trunks that he was getting a hard on.
“'Well-' He started acting flustered and sat up.'-you can do it that way, but it means doing it right in your rear end.'
“'Oh,' I said in a tone that was designed to leave him guessing.
“'I guess boys do that to each other, don't they?' I asked.
“'Sometimes.'
“'Have you ever?' I asked, rolling over and staring at him full in the face. He turned several shades of color, and started fooling around with a shell on the deck of the raft, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“'Uh, well, yes,' he finally muttered.
“'Come on, tell me about it,' I said in a playful voice. I was really enjoying all this.
“'Okay, but you have to promise not to tell.'
“'I promise.'
“'Well, it happened at summer camp last year. At night after everything was dark, and the counselors were all in the main hut crapping around, a bunch of us kids used to get some of the little fellows and-and we'd take 'em into the woods and stick our pricks up their assholes.'
“'Has anyone ever stuck his prick up your ass?' I asked.
“Poor Billy blushed red. I thought he was just about going to die. 'Yup!' he finally said after a long painful pause. He couldn't look at me.
“'What was it like? Did you like it?'
“'It was okay. It hurt a little at first, but it was okay.'
“I was curious now, real curious. I remembered how nice Dorothy's finger had felt up my bottom, and the candle.. She had only just started to stick that in me when we got caught. I was in a really crazy mood right then, absolutely pupule.
“'Billy,' I said softly, 'would you like to corncob me?'
“'You mean you want me to?'
“He was obviously flabbergasted.
“'I want to see what it's like.'
“'Sure,' he said enthusiastically, that is, if you want to.'
“'Do you want to?'
“'Do you want to?'
“'Okay,' I said to end this silly shadowboxing. “'Okay,' he answered.
“Suddenly he leaped up and dove into the water. I dove after him. He ducked under the raft and came up behind it, out of sight from the beach, and I did the same.
“'Take your suit down,' he ordered in a strained voice.
“I clung to the raft with one hand and, with the other, pulled my bikini down below my hips. It felt great being bare-bottom in the water and I got this terrific feeling of anticipation. When he took down his trunks, I saw his prick. I'd never seen one before, and I was shocked at how long and thick it was.
“'It's so big! You can't get that big thing in, can you?'
“'Sure, only it may hurt a little at first.'
“'You'll be real gentle, won't you, Billy?' I begged.
“'Sure, sure.'
“I felt him come up behind me, and I sort of spread my legs and drew them up and also pushed back with my rump. We were both pretty excited. I felt him fumbling around between my buttocks, trying to find the place, and having a heck of a hard time. Finally, I reached back and took his prick between my fingers.
“'Oh, Peggy,' he whispered, 'take it easy or I'll shoot off.'
“'What's “shoot off”?' I asked.
“He answered me by actually doing it. His penis was between my buttocks searching for my anus when I felt it convulse and this warm stuff spurt all over me back there.
“'Ohhhh, Peggy,' he moaned.
“'What's that warm stuff all over me?'
“'Juice,' he gasped.
“'Can't you get it in?' I whispered. I wanted it in in the worst way now.
“'I–I can't find the place.'
“'Here-it's here,' and I pressed his prick against my anus. I had quite a hard time finding it myself, because I was all covered with cream and his prick was slippery.
“'Ohhhh!' I gasped as I felt this long thick banana shoot up my fanny, much further than Dorothy's finger. It was much thicker, too. It hardly hurt at all. He pushed it up me all the way. It felt tight in there. Then he pulled it out.
“'Ooooh, stick it in me again,' I begged.
“He was accommodating, very accommodating, in fact, and I felt it push up me again. I really loved it. I kept wishing he'd just leave it in, but as soon as it was all the way up he pulled it out again.
“'Do it to me again,' I begged.
“He did, and this time I had an orgasm, entirely from what he was doing to me in my rear end and without anything in front at all. After that we pulled up our trunks, swam around a little, and then climbed up on the raft to rest after that workout.
“'I really liked that, Billy,' I said.
“'Do you want to do it again some time?'
“'Oh yes.'”
Peggy's case is rather typical of anal eroticism. As authorities point out, female masturbation is fairly common. Kinsey reports that “a considerable portion of the masturbation which we have found among infants and young pre-adolescent girls in our sample appears to have been self-discovered. Some 70 percent of the older pre-adolescent girls who had begun to masturbate before adolescence also appear to have discovered the possibilities through their own exploration.” This was undoubtedly Dorothy's case. She introduced it to Peggy. Because girls are much more reticent about sex life than boys, mutual masturbation among them is less common. It does, however, occur.
Significantly, Peggy's masturbation began with clitoral stimulation, quickly escalated to digital penetration of the vagina, and then was combined with digital penetration of the anus. Had she continued to enjoy vaginal masturbation, Peggy would not have become an analist even though she accepted that form of stimulation with pleasure. As authorities such as Redlich observe (Theory and Practice of Psychiatry), the essence of deviation is the preference for some form of sexual activity other than heterosexual genital intercourse. It is entirely possible to enjoy anal or oral sex without being a deviate. One can only be classified as a deviate when the anal or oral stimulation becomes the primary goal and displaces what is usually called normal sexuality.
Like most deviates, Peggy drifted into perversion without much realization on her part of what was happening. Her masturbation put her in the 90 percent of the population who at one time or another have indulged in this kind of sex and were in no way abnormal. She showed signs of abnormality only at the point when she invited Billy to perform anal intercourse on her, and, even here, curiosity and faute de mieux played so important a role that she could not be said to be deviant at that point.
What happened after her anal intercourse was significant, as will be shown. She developed a preference for anal masturbation while, at the same time, her interest in genital sex underwent a marked decline. Subsequently, she became anally erotic, but not homosexual or masochistic even though the mutual masturbation with Dorothy and the whipping received from her mother both stimulated her anal interests initially. What confirmed her analism was the experience with Billy. She wanted it repeated. However, as will also be shown, Billy returned to Maui soon after the episode on the raft, leaving Peggy with memories.
Peggy had just turned sixteen and was entering the stage of life when girls normally become interested in boys in a social way. In the islands it happens considerably earlier in most cases. Like most deviates, however, Peggy was regressive, a slow developer, and, as an only child with very strict parents, somewhat isolated. For the most part, she felt very awkward and ill at ease with young men, the episode with Billy being a highly exceptional instance.
After the humiliating incident at school, when she and Dorothy were apprehended while indulging in mutual masturbation, and after being punished by her severe mother, Peggy became more secretive. She preferred to be alone much of the time, related poorly to other young people, and, at the same time, developed stronger erotic interests than before.
As will be seen, fantasies played an increasing role in her life, especially anal fantasies. These, in turn, led to compulsions to act out the dream experiences in ritual fashion. Peggy became a compulsive person, highly obsessive, and increasingly introverted. In due course, her private sex games became more important to her than almost everything else. These, however, had the effect of arousing guilt and shame. Peggy had been brought up under a strict code in which all forms of sex outside marriage and not leading to procreation were condemned as “filthy perversions.” Peggy's mother was dominant in the family, a situation very frequently encountered in cases of anal eroticism, and Peggy was treated with great sternness. From the age of twelve on she was in revolt against her mother, and, intellectually, rejected all of her mother's values. Indeed, one reason for her entering into both the mutual masturbation situation with Dolores and for actually inviting anal intercourse with Billy was to defy her mother. Subliminally, however, the strict puritan code was deeply ingrained in Peggy and she could not escape the consequences of violating it. Deep shame and guilt followed all of her sexual experiments, deferred usually by her initial feelings of defiance, but, finally, making themselves felt in the form of depression.
Clearly it is society that is most to blame in this and many other instances. Christianity, with its emphasis on the sinfulness of sex, and the condemnation of sodomy which stems from Paul's epistle to the Romans, has done Western Civilization a great disservice. Indeed, Christianity, both Catholic and Protestant, is chiefly responsible for the psychological suffering of deviates in the West. The condemnations, anxiety, and shame are instilled very early, and, although, as adults, many individuals reject the harsh Christian code and repudiate the cruel Jehovah, they are still inwardly tortured by pangs of guilt originating out of early indoctrination. The fact that these guilt feelings persist in persons who intellectually reject the doctrines is sometimes taken by the orthodox as proof of divine retribution. This, however, is nonsense, conscience being the product of socialization and not something innate, a fact which has been proven time and time again. The Christian sex ethic is not divinely revealed but is a product of history. It should not be viewed as an absolute, but as the opinion of authoritarian personalities such as Paul, Tertullian, and Augustine. It was not taught by Jesus, who took a healthy and wholesome view of sex as evidenced by his tolerance of Mary Magdalene, his kindly attitude toward the woman taken in adultery, and the fact that most or all of the apostles were married. Jesus was not an ascetic and, indeed, condemned most harshly the strict and righteous Pharisees whose outlook bears closest resemblance to that of evangelical Protestants and the stricter Catholics of our own time. There is no mention of sex deviation in the Gospels, but it is doubtful that Jesus would have taken the severe position toward them which Paul did.
Peggy came from a family whose members subscribed to a rigid form of evangelical Protestantism. She herself was brought up in the narrow sectarian teachings of this church, and became increasingly deviated, in part, as a result of her rebellion against it.
“I was really sad when Billy went back to Maui, and at night, when I was lying in my bed, I'd keep reliving what he did to me on the raft, how his prick felt in me, what he'd said, and what I said. I kept wishing he lived on Oahu so that we could get together. But I never saw him again.
“Later I started feeling ashamed about it and prayed to be made clean, and, to Mom's delight, started going to church more regularly than I had.
I decided to stop all the dirty stuff and never do it again. I was really afraid that God would strike me dead and send me to hell if I didn't. But all that kind of thinking did was make me want it all the more. I kept wanting to be corncobbed. That's what Billy had called it.
“Then I started finding ways that I could almost have what I wanted. One time, just after school started up again, I was lying on my bed in my room fooling around with artist's clay. I'm pretty good with it, just as I'm pretty good at drawing and painting. I was making animals and people's heads, and everything, when all of a sudden I got this idea. Why don't I make a clay figure of a boy and another of a girl and then have them do it with each other. It gave me a thrill just thinking about it, almost as much of a thrill as I'd gotten with Dorothy in the bushes behind school and with Billy on the raft.
“I made a boy who looked something like Billy, real tall and sort of skinny, and I made a big long prick on him. 'Prick' is what he called his thing. I don't know exactly how a boy looks, so I had to guess at some of it. Then I made a girl, not a girl who looks like me, though, but sort of plump like Dorothy, and, of course, she had to have a very round rear that stuck out behind. Then I had her get down on all fours, dog fashion, and I put the boy behind her, kneeling, and put his prick between her cheeks, like he was cornholing her. I really got excited doing that, so excited that I just had to do something. I wanted somebody to stick something up my rear, but there was no one to do it but myself.
“I got this impulse, though, to do something to myself. I went down to the kitchen and looked in the fridge and, sure enough, there were a few frankfurters in there. So I took one of them back to my room with me, stripped naked in front of the mirror, stood with my back to it, bent down, and slid the hot dog up my fanny. It was still cold from the fridge and felt nice going in and I just rubbed it in and out, all the time watching my own behind in the mirror and how the wienie disappeared in the crack between my buttocks. Then, while I was corncobbing myself, I diddled my clit until I came.
“It was okay doing it that way, it felt good and everything, but I missed having another person. It's not as much fun if you have to do it by yourself.
“After I finished I took a shower and put on some clean clothes, threw away the hot dog and mashed up the clay figures. I really felt ashamed of myself, deeply ashamed, and I decided that I just wasn't going to do any of that dirty stuff again. I was going to be a good girl from now on.
“But I wasn't very good at keeping my resolution. About two weeks later, both Mom and Dad went out somewhere, a church meeting, I guess. I fooled around with the plastic clay for a while, and then I got this other idea and started doing a drawing. It was the same kind of drawing as what I'd done in clay: a boy who looked a little like Billy, only better looking than he is, corncobbing a girl, and this time I drew a girl who looked quite a bit like me. Wow, that really did it!
“I stripped naked, found a candle, and got down on all fours like in my drawing. Then, while I stared at the drawing I slowly pushed the candle up my rear end. After it was in quite a way I laid down flat on the bed on my tummy with my legs apart, reached back and diddled my clit until I came.
“The same thing happened, of course, as that other time. I felt really ashamed of myself, like I was just about the most awful slut in the world. I tore up the drawing and threw the candle in the rubbish and decided that I was never never going to do anything else again. Never.
“I kept my resolution better that time, and it wasn't until I was seventeen and just about ready to graduate from high school that I got sexy again. That really did it.
“One morning I woke up with these sharp pains and, after trying one or two home remedies, Mom bundled me off to the hospital. The doctor tapped and pressed around, made me bend my leg and asked if it hurt more that way than when I lay flat, and a nurse took my blood count. Anyhow, they finally stuck me in the hospital and took my appendix out.
“They get you up real early at a hospital, and I was still feeling very sleepy when I saw the door to my room slowly open. In came a nurse, the one I liked most, in fact, carrying what looked like a hat rack with this bulging enema bag and long red tube.
“My eyes popped open and I sat bolt upright in bed, just horrified.
“'It's all right, honey,' the nurse said in this soothing voice. 'It's just an enema. It's a little embarrassing, but it'll do you a world of good.'
“'Do I have to?' I asked.
“'I'm afraid so, dear-doctor's orders. But I'll be very gentle, and if your tummy starts to ache tell me right away and I'll clamp it shut until it stops aching.'
“'Well, if I absolutely have to…'
“'That's my girl; now roll over.'
“I reluctantly rolled over, with my back to the nurse. I closed my eyes. I felt tense and frightened, but also felt the same tingling sense of anticipation from the times with Dorothy and Billy. I thought I'd outgrown all that silly stuff, but now it all came back, and I just wanted the enema in the worst way.
“The nurse turned down the sheet and blanket, had me rise up while she slid a rubber pad under my thighs and hips, slid my nightie up, and then told me to straighten my left leg and draw up my right. I was blushing furiously. Then I felt the nurse's fingers separating my buttocks, and the tube sliding in. It didn't hurt at all. It wasn't a particularly thick tube, and the nurse was very gentle. I felt the warm water spurt in. It felt sort of nice. Then the nurse, very slowly, and very gently, ran the tube up my rectum. I really liked that. It felt so good.
“'Are you all right, dear?' the nurse asked.
“'Yes, I'm fine.'
“'Can you hold it all right, or do you want me to shut it off?'
“'I can hold it… I think.'
“'Good girl, we're almost finished.'
“'I don't think I can hold any more.'
“'And you don't have to, because we're all finished.'
“The nurse quickly pulled out the tube and helped me get to the John.
“That darned enema started me off with that silly rear-end stuff again. After I came home from the hospital I kept reliving the enema, how it felt, and everything, and really drove myself nuts. I started the drawings again, too, this time of girls being given enemas, sometimes by nurses and sometimes by boys. And I started thinking about corncobbing and I wished that I knew another boy like Billy.
“After I drew the pictures, I just had to have something up my rear, so now I'd strip naked, get the enema syringe and give myself an enema right in front of the mirror. While it was going in I'd diddle my clit until I came. Then, afterwards, I'd always feel so dirty and silly and resolve I was never going to do that again. But, sooner or later, I always did. It was a real ritual.
“It bothered me a lot. I didn't believe any of that religious crap anymore, but I still felt that what I was doing was wrong and that somehow or other I was going to get it. What bothered me most was that I knew it wasn't normal. I looked up about deviations in some books on sex, but I couldn't find anything about my kind. That made it all the worse because I felt like I was a really queer person, did things that nobody else did.
“Guilt, though, wasn't the only bad thing about what I did. The worst was that I always had to do it alone. It's awful to always be alone, to have such a big thing in your life and not be able to share it with anybody, not even a little. When I was younger, when Dorothy and I fooled around, it was sort of naughty, but it was more like a game, not a perversion. What I really felt most of all was the isolation, though. I'd always keep wishing that there was somebody else, male or female, who would do things to me.
“One afternoon when I had been drawing pictures of girls being given enemas, and was feeling extremely sexy, I got a new idea. I remembered that there are visiting nurses and that they come to your house if you need treatment. I was sort of scared to ask, but I wanted someone to give me an enema so bad that I just couldn't stand it any longer. I looked up the number in the yellow pages and dialed.
“A woman answered, and, trying to keep my voice from shaking, I asked, 'Would it be possible to have a nurse give me an enema?'
“'We'd have to have a doctor's order,' she answered.
“I was stymied by that, and mumbled about how it didn't matter. I was beginning to wish I'd never started this nonsense.
“'What is the problem?' she asked.
“'Oh, constipation,' I said, snatching something out of the air. 'I'm suffering from constipation.'
“'Have you tried a laxative?'
“'Y-yes,' I lied.
“'I see. Well, how long has it been since you had a movement?'
“'About three days,' I lied.
“She hesitated a moment, and then asked who my doctor was. I told her.
“'Well,' she said, 'we must have a doctor's order, but, if you like, I'll call your doctor and then call you back.'
“I was in an absolute panic after I hung up. In one way I hoped she'd call back and say that I couldn't have it, and in another I wanted to be given one so bad that I couldn't stand it. Anyway, about fifteen minutes later, the phone rang and it was the nurse again.
“'Well, I talked with your doctor,' she said, 'and he said that it will be all right for you to have the enema, but that you should go to see him if you have any more trouble.'
“'That's fine,' I said, my voice trembling. I was trembling all over.
“I gave her my address, and she told me that the nurse would call me. Boy this was really getting involved, I thought. But that made it all the more exciting.
“I sat next to the phone for a while, waiting for it to ring, and, when it didn't, I decided to try to pretend that nothing was going to happen at all, and that it was going to be a big surprise. I sat and waited, tried to read, gave it up, turned on the TV and then turned it off again, and waited. Played the piano and waited. I was just about to go to the kitchen and get a coke when the phone rang. It scared me so, I jumped. I almost decided not to answer it. But I did.
“'Are you Peggy?' She sounded pretty young on the phone, which was good, and pretty businesslike which was okay.
“'Yes.' My voice sounded little.
“'And you want an enema?'
“'Yes, ma'am,' I answered formally, as if she was my homeroom teacher.
“'Very well. I have the address. I will be there in about twenty minutes.'
“I hung up the receiver and gulped. There was a huge lump in my throat and I felt scared; my stomach was turning flip-flops. It was a delicious sensation, really. I was so tense and tight, though, I couldn't sit still or anything like that but kept sort of pacing around. I went in the bedroom where there was a big mirror, stood in front of it, in profile, and slowly raised my navy-blue skirt, admiring my thighs, then goosed myself and said, 'You're going to get it, right back there. A lady is going to stick an enema tube up your bare bottom… way up, and how do you think you're going to like that?'
“I smoothed my skirt down, glanced at my watch. Suppose Mom and Pop should suddenly come home in the middle of the operation and catch us! But that was impossible, though, because they were way over on the “big island.” Crazy, pupule loa, I told myself.
“I wished that I could settle down and just have her sort of discover me sitting demurely, knees crossed, magazine on my lap-that the whole episode could happen sort of casually. But I was practically beside myself with excitement and kept staring out the window.
“A small blue car, a Datsun, I think, paused and parked in front, and, as I watched breathlessly, a young cosmopolitan woman with dark hair and golden complexion got out. She was wearing a gray uniform and carried a small black bag.
“'Oh my gosh,' I gasped, suddenly and profoundly regretting what I'd gotten myself into, and wishing I could just run away. But I continued kneeling on the couch, staring out through the Venetian blinds, paralyzed with fascination.
“The doorbell chimed. I leaped up, touched my hair in the mirror, and then hurried to answer, smoothing my skirt as I did.
“'Hello,' I said, trying to sound very calm.
“The young nurse-I guess she was around twenty-two-smiled, nodded, and came in.
“'Don't be scared,' she said. 'I won't bite.'
“'Friend or enema?' I asked brightly, remembering a stupid joke.
“'Maybe a little of both,' she said, smiling wryly. She put on a white apron from the black bag. 'Okay,' she said. 'Where's the bathroom?'
“I led the way and she closed the door behind us, then laid her bag on the little three-legged stool in the corner.
“'You can start getting undressed,' she said in a matter-of-fact way. 'Take off your skirt, your panties, slip, and shoes.'
“I gulped and then, very slowly, started undoing the zipper on the side of my skirt, let it fall, stepped out of it, then took down my half-slip, stepped out of my loafers, and, last of all, took off my panties. I was trembling all over by then, and watched her make her preparations to assault me with fascination.
“She took out a coil of soft rubber tube and a funnel from her bag, and then asked for a pitcher or pan or something to pour water from.
“'I'll get one,' I volunteered helpfully, forgetting that I was nude from the waist down.
“She glanced at me and laughed. 'Maybe you'd better let me.'
“'In the kitchen on the second shelf of the cupboard,' I said.
“I was really ready for it when she came back. Just standing there with my bottom bare and staring at the tube she was going to stick up me was enough. I hoped that I wouldn't let on what I was getting out of the enema by anything I said, or let her get the idea that the whole thing was pure sex to me.
“'Now,' she said, 'I think the best thing is for you to kneel down on the rug, okay?'
“'Okay,' I murmured, and did.
“'Now lean forward and rest your head right on the rug-and you can just fold your arms under your head. Is that comfortable?'
“'I'm okay,' I whispered.
“This was very exciting. My bare backside was up and felt so vulnerable. Oh, boy, did I want it now!
“'I guess this is bottoms up,' she said with a laugh. 'Now,' she said, 'take a deep breath and hold it.'
“I sighed as I felt the soft tube slide through my anus and push very swiftly up my rectum. Oh, it felt so nice, so much better than doing it myself. I wished she'd just keep pushing it in and pushing it in, right up through me until it came out my mouth.
“'How far up will the tube go?' I asked curiously as I felt the water squirt in.
“'What do you mean?' she laughed.
“'Oh, I just wondered how far up it can be pushed.'
“'It's hard to get it up very high,' she said, “because it coils, but if you're very careful you can run it in as far as the cecum-that's the turn in the large bowel.'
“'Oh,' I replied, relaxing pleasurably as the water gurgled in me. It gave me cramps, I didn't mind. I would liked to have had the tube run up higher, but I didn't dare ask. It wasn't really an ecstatic feeling. I wouldn't come, but it was just pleasant, very pleasant, and it was especially nice to have someone do something to you back there when you're all bare. The fact that she was a perfect stranger and that it was all sort of embarrassing made it all the more exciting. I was sorry when it was over and she pulled the tube out. It had really been nice.
“'Did it work all right?' she asked professionally.
“'Yes, I feel much better now.'
“She nodded, cleaned her apparatus, packed it away, and prepared to leave.
“'You must get a doctor's order next time,' she said very seriously.
“'Yes'm,' I replied.
“I watched her walk down to her car and then drive off. I was very tired now, but although I hadn't come or anything, the enema had been very satisfying. I wished that I could just call and have a nurse come and give me one when I really wanted it, but I knew that this was a one and only deal.
“The one big thing I'd learned out of it, though, was that lonely sex is no good. You have to have a partner. I wondered if I was a lesbian, but then I asked myself, suppose the nurse had been male? Oh, then I would have liked it ten times more and I'd probably come the moment he touched me. Sure, I'd rather have a boy do it, a boy like Billy, but how could I ever meet one? The one other thing that I knew now was that I really only wanted to do it in the rear. The whole idea of doing it in front sort of disgusted me, like I suppose rear-end sex does normal people.
“My dreams came true just after I turned eighteen and was going to the U. Who should be there but friend Billy! Wow! I almost flipped when I saw him. He was obviously delighted when he saw me; we hung around the Student Union with the kids a while, and then he said: 'How about a show?'
“He'd filled out quite a bit now, was pretty muscular, and he told me that he was turning out for football. I could see girls I knew eyeing us curiously, and me enviously, as we left the Union and headed for his jalopy. It was some jalopy, too, a really flashy bright yellow Mustang.
“All through dinner down at Waikiki, and after the show afterwards, we talked about everything except that time when we were on the raft over at Lanikai. I wondered if he remembered it the way I did, or whether he thought it was kid stuff or dirty or something. Anyway, I found out.
“After the movie we drove around a while and pretty soon we were parked up on Tantalus where you could see the whole city all lit up. It was really beautiful.
“'Remember that time when we were out on the raft,' he whispered. His hand was on my breast, massaging very gently, and I just snuggled in his arms.
“'Uh-huh.'
“'Want to do it again?'
“'I'd love to,' I murmured.
“He kissed me and we necked some more. I was really excited. A few moments later we were in the back seat; I was kneeling down with my dress way up and my panties down.
“'Ohhhh, Billy,' I moaned as he slid his penis up my rectum. It hurt. I wanted it to hurt. He kept pushing it in and in. It was unbelievable how big it was, how huge, and how it just came up in me, way up in.
“Then he started to pump, in and out, in and out. I could almost hear it clicking back and forth in my rectum. I knelt and pushed back with my bottom and he pushed forward, driving his prick all the way up my rectum as far as it would go. It felt like it was going up a mile. Then I'd pull forward, and he'd pull back, almost all the way out; the next plunge would come immediately. With all his strength. And boy was he strong. He'd just drive it up through me.
“'Ooooh! Oooooh! Oooooh! It feels good!' I kept moaning over and over again. I was just in ecstasy. It was better than anything, better than the first time he did it to me, better than the enemas, or candles or anything. I knew that I just had to have this a lot. I just had to. And, oh, how I loved him. I just loved him so much for making me feel so good!
“He plunged it up me again and I felt the warm juice spurt in me, giving me a terrific semen enema, and at that moment, I came myself.
“Well, that's the end of my story and also the beginning. Billy and I got married, and every night I get bunged up the rear. I just love it and love him. We feel we're pretty lucky to both be queer the same way.”
Peggy is very fortunate. Unless she found a mate like Billy, who shared her particular deviation, it would have been impossible for her to enjoy a full sex experience in marriage. Quite probably she would not have married at all. Masturbation is not morally reprehensible nor is it physiologically damaging; it does, however, have psychological consequences, among them the fact that the masturbator is a lonely person and his masturbation increases his isolation. As Caprio suggests, “It is the person's attitude toward it and the nature of the phantasies that determine whether it will affect one's health. Neurotic feelings of guilt associated with the act may cause certain individuals considerable anxiety.”
Peggy was spared these problems. True, she would probably continue to be deviated, but since her deviation could be shared with a partner in marriage there is no reason but to consider hers to be a fairly satisfactory resolution of what could have become a fairly severe difficulty.